The Chosen Chef?: Harry in the Kitchen!
by Missus Hemsworth
Summary: this is the experience i think harry would have if he tried to undergo a simple task without the aid of magic! my point is that perhaps harry relies a little too much on magic... and if he lost his wand he would be in a pot of trouble or two!


I gazed at the cake bowl, taking in every scratch and imperfection, knowing that it and I would soon be embarking upon an adventure that could change us both forever. This cake was to be my first masterpiece, a work of art that would not only determine my skill as a chef, but also my skill as an artist as I create something so spectacular that it would be marvelled at for centuries. The smell of the unique ingredients mingle together in a perfume of delight presenting to me the perfect tools at my disposal to turn the mere plastic cases into something so magnificent, one of humanity's seven wonders. The beautiful diagram of the finished product not only persuades me to continue my goal but also the elusive finished diagram enhances the features of the cake itself.

As I begin to open the cake mix I feel a sense of happiness and warmth as I begin a quest of change, growth and understanding. The cake mix is soft and mysterious, capable of creating something magical with its contents of fine flavours to send my taste buds soaring. Visualising what this cake will become I pour the cake mix into the bowl, slowly and delicately the powdery substance lands in the bowl showing the first movement from something so minor, into something spectacular.

Next I grab the two eggs, they are firm and cold, presenting to me the sense that I may not be able to complete the journey, which this cake is bringing me. I took an egg in each hand, feeling the cool texture of the shell. I could barely bear to break the fragile shell and free the yolk, but I knew I had to, for the sake of my cake. As the eggs break, I begin to watch as the golden yolk slide down towards the cake bowl, glistening in the summer sunshine before abruptly being swept onto my new blue shirt by a fresh summers breeze. Looking back at the final product an urge to finish this cake swiftly empowers my mind, but I mustn't rush, as I know a simple mistake can turn what was meant to be something magical, into something tragic. Two cups of milk pour into the bowl causing the contents of the bowl to brighten up like a magical pool of wonders ready to emerge out of the bowl into a rainbow of colour.

As I pull out the mixer ready to transform not only this pool of paste into a modern day marvel, but also myself from a helpless human into an independent mixer with its blades resembling teeth, tears through the pre-cake stage turning it into a soft mixture, so delectable that it begins to make my mouth water.

Tearing through the cake the blades hack and slash, who would've though something, which looks so destructive, is actually going to be so constructive. The anticipation of the finished product almost gets to me as I anxiously wait for the blades to stop spinning. Perspiration, like small fragments of glass slide down my forehead as I the blades begin to slow down finishing the second stage of my cakes journey. When the blades finally stop a soft sigh of relief is heard as everything goes silent as if something so shocking has happened.

Panic begins to strike as I realise that the cake pan it recommends is nowhere to be found. A thought that this cake may never come to see the light of day sets in as I anxiously search the kitchen like an ant rushing all over the place during a storm for a replacement pan. After the longest twenty minutes of my life a replacement pan is found, however my problems are only just beginning. Flies begin to invade the cake mix like barbarians attempting to destroy my work and disrupt my quest. Waving my hands back and forth the flies begin to leave and as soon as they had appeared they were gone, but the damage they had caused was to be unfixable, the perfect cake, descending down into something imperfect and lifeless. Despite the damage caused by the flies I decided I couldn't abruptly end the journey the cake and I had undergone, for we had been through so much together already.

As I open the door to the fridge a sudden burst of cold air appears out of nowhere stunning me as if I had been struck by lightning. Recovering from the daze I take out the butter and begin to grease the pan. The soft butter slides down the pan engulfing it entirely in butter in a matter of minutes. Pouring the cake into the pan I begin to realise that the third phase of my journey had come to an end. Watching it slump into the pan I realise that the cake is so close to completion. Perspiration begins to trickle down my forehead again like a cool breeze coming off the sea.

Happiness turns to anger and frustration as I realise I had never pre-heated the oven. Stress ensues, as I must wait ten minutes for the over to pre-heat before the cake can even start to be cooked. Finally after what felt like ten years the oven finally pre-heats to the appropriate temperature. As I put the cake in the oven it finally sinks into me that my journey is drawing to a close. Anxiety and enthusiasm takes place, as I must wait the one-hour before I can taste the creation my journey produced. The smell of the cake cooking sends shivers down my spine as I anxiously begin pacing back and forth like a little child waiting for Christmas, trying anything to make time go faster.

When the timer finally rings a sense of relief occurs as I realise the fourth and final phase of my cakes journey and myself had been completed. Rushing to the oven like a lion chasing its prey I open the door and take out the cake. As I take the cake out of the oven a warm gush of air comes at me giving me a warm feeling that I've actually completed something nobody thought I could. I slowly take the cake over to the window; careful just as a mother protects her baby I was protecting my cake. As I turn around to get the icing I hear a loud thud, as if my hopes and dreams had crumbled into a million little pieces. Turning around I notice my cake missing, lying destroyed on the ground like a porcelain figure shattered into hundreds of unfixable pieces. As I stand there, shocked at what has occurred I realise the harsh reality of life and how easily it can be destroyed. I realise that life is a sacred thing and that you should enjoy the time you have, as you never know when it can end.


End file.
